


Because You're My Skipper

by finnemoreshusband



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: M/M, Post Episode: s04e06 Yverdon-les-Bains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:03:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finnemoreshusband/pseuds/finnemoreshusband
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin is lonely at his new job, and Arthur is missing his favourite pilot.  When Arthur pays him a visit to make him feel better, Martin realises something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because You're My Skipper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EverlivingGhosts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverlivingGhosts/gifts).



> This was written for thehappygnome on tumblr as a prize from my giveaway.

Martin sat at the edge of his bed, holding his mobile in his hands, trying to decide what to do. He didn't want to talk to Douglas just now. The man was his friend—one of his best friends, truthfully—but he'd been talking to Douglas about what he was going through almost every night for the past week. And Martin appreciated it, of course he did. Which is why he couldn't phone him again. He deserved a break.

But he needed to talk to _someone._

Simon, maybe. But Martin didn't want him worrying any more than he already was. Same with Caitlin and his mum.

He was just about to recheck his mental list when the phone buzzed against his palms.

With a hefty sigh and a hard bite down to gather himself, he looked at the caller I.D.

Arthur.

Oh, of course. Sweet, happy Arthur. That was what he needed right now, a happy voice. Why hadn't Martin thought of him from the start?

He clicked the answer button just before the last ring and put the phone to his ear, holding it as steady as he could with his hand shaking the way it was. “Arthur?”

“Skip!” That one word was enough to ground Martin. For now, anyway. “Oh, brilliant! I didn't know if you'd pick up.”

“Why wouldn't I?”

“I don't know, if you were busy, or something. That's why I haven't tried before. I didn't want to pull you away from anything.”

“You're not, Arthur. I got back from a flight this morning, I've just been sitting here all day...” It was true. The flying had been a good distraction, as he loved it so. But once the flight was over, his mind was free to wander. And it had plenty of room in his empty flat. “I'm glad you called.”

“Are you? That's great. How are you? We haven't spoken since you left. I can't believe it's almost been a whole month.”

“Neither can I,” Martin said in a soft voice. “I've been, er... good.”

“Oh.” That was Arthur's I'm-being-lied-to voice, and Martin felt terrible. Arthur may not be the most perceptive person, but he did have a way of telling when people were lying. At least about their state of being, anyway. Dear, helpful Arthur always knew when someone was in distress. Particularly Martin. “Skip, you don't _sound_ good. Are you sad?”

“I... I don't know, Arthur.”

“What's wrong? Is the job not going well?”

“No, that's wonderful. I absolutely love it.”

“...Money trouble?”

“No,” Martin said again. “Nothing like that.”

“You don't have to tell me. If you don't wan to.”

Martin swallowed. “But I want to, I need to tell someone. I sort of told Douglas, but he doesn't really know all of it.”

“Okay.”

Arthur waited through the silence.

“Theresa and I broke up. Last week.”

“I'm sorry, Martin.”

Martin bit his lip. “That's not... that's not it, really. It was a mutual decision. She's really great, but it just... it wasn't really going anywhere. My heart wasn't in it. So we agreed to just stay friends.”

“Well that's good. Friends are brilliant.”

“That's the problem,” Martin said with a dark laugh. “I don't have any. Not here. I mean, I get along alright with my coworkers, but we don't associate at all outside of work. Everyone is back home and I'm... here.”

“Alone.”

“Yeah.”

“You know you can talk to me any time you want, if it'd help. I know it's not the same, but Martin, if you're lonely...”

Martin pinched his eyes closed. “God, I must sound so pathetic.”

“No, no, you don't, I promise. Lots of people get lonely. It's nothing to be ashamed of. But you do have people who care about you, however far away they are. Remember that.”

“I will, Arthur. Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Martin kept in almost constant contact with Arthur via text for the next three days.

It really did help keep the loneliness at bay. Just as he felt it creeping inside, ready to make a home in his gut, his phone would pip and there'd be a joke (often told wrong), a random fact (that he had to double check on accuracy), or just a general reminder that he did have friends and family who loved him (which he knew but it helped to have the reminder).

And when, just after returning from his latest trip, there was a knock at the door to his flat, he was a bit startled. The only person who might come see him was the landlord, and he was definitely not overdue for the rent, having put up the firs few months' when he'd moved in.

But it wasn't the landlord at the door.

It was Arthur.

“What—”

Arthur beamed. “Surprise!”

“Arthur, you... you're here... how did you...”

“My mum owns an aeroplane, Skip.”

Martin giggled before he could stop himself. “Yes, I know that, but...”

“I couldn't stand the thought of you being lonely. And I missed you so much, so I asked Mum if I could visit. Can I come in?”

“Oh, right,” Martin stepped aside so Arthur could come through and put his small bag on the floor by the door. “Of course. So, if Carolyn brought you...”

“She's at the hotel. And so are Herc and Douglas. They said they wanted to rest before coming to see you, but I couldn't wait.”

“I'm glad you didn't,” Martin blurted, feeling heat crawl up his neck.

Arthur's smile only brightened and he moved to embrace Martin. And Martin let him, hugging him back as hard as he could. “So you're not upset I didn't tell you we were coming?”

“No,” Martin said, head still against Arthur's chest as they continued to hold each other. “It was a nice surprise. Thank you.”

Arthur pulled away a bit so Martin could see the sincerity on his face. “I'm always here for you.”

“I know.” Martin finally disengaged the hug. “Erm, do you want some tea, or... something?”

“Sure. Bit weird, you serving me.”

Martin laughed again. He honestly hadn't felt this happy in a long while. “Actually, I was just about to make dinner but... we could go out, if you want.”

“It's up to you.”

“Let's go out,” Martin decided. “I haven't been out in ages.”

 

* * *

 

Their search for dinner led them to a small restaurant nearby. Not particularly special, but it was small and quiet and honestly Martin didn't really care where they were. He was just so happy to be there with Arthur.

They talked over their meals, both hardly paying attention to their food as they caught up.

Arthur, as usually, couldn't really keep quiet. And Martin was having a nice time listening to him.

 

* * *

 

As they stepped outside the restaurant, Martin couldn't help but feel a bit down. It was getting late, but he really didn't want this to be over yet.

Arthur was thinking the same thing. But they did have tomorrow; Martin had the next few days off. “I guess... I should get back to the hotel.”

Martin's smile shrank a bit. “Oh...”

“Unless you had something else on your mind?”

“No, I just... you just got here and I haven't seen you in a month and... I mean I understand if you want to get some rest.”

“I'm not that tired just yet.”

“Okay, so... would you want to come back to mine for a bit? There's not much to do, but...”

“We could just watch telly together,” Arthur offered, trying to help Martin navigate.

“Yeah, we could. D'you want to?”

Arthur nodded and they headed back to Martin's flat in comfortable silence.

 

* * *

 

Martin's current residence was no attic flat, but it also wasn't a mansion. It was a small apartment with a bedroom, a bathroom, and a combo kitchen and front-room. But he liked it.

The only television he had was in his bedroom, but he didn't mind sitting on his bed next to Arthur as they flipped through channels.

“Sorry there's not much on,” Martin said.

“It's fine. Now that I'm comfortable, I actually could sleep.”

“You can spend the night, if you want. You can have the bed, I'll take the sofa.”

“I'm not kicking you out of your own bed,” Arthur protested, voice suddenly heavy with sleep.

“But you're my guest.”

Arthur considered this. Then had an idea. “We could share.”

Martin wasn't put off by the idea at all. How many times had they had to share a hotel bed when Carolyn wanted to cut expenses? “Alright. Do you need clothes, or—?”

“Nope, I brought some with me,” Arthur said, and Martin remembered the sack he'd had in his hands when he was at the door. “Just in case. I'll change in the bathroom.”

Martin nodded and they both stood from the bed. Once Arthur was out of the room, Marin changed into his own pyjamas (just a white tea and pair of checked bottoms). He switched the television off just as Arthur knocked. “I'm dressed.”

Arthur came in, dressed in what looked like children's pyjamas. They were a blue fleece material, with animals printed all over. He sat on Martin's bed, laying back with his arms behind his head and letting his eyes slip closed.

Martin turned out the light and counted the steps to his bed, sliding in next to Arthur, who was most likely already asleep. Martin wasn't awake long enough to find out.

 

* * *

 

A warm ray of sunlight roused Martin from sleep. It was warm and soft, a nice way to wake up.

As the fog of sleep cleared from his head, Martin remembered last night. Remembered Arthur had come to visit.

That's when he realised he currently had an armful of said steward. His arms were wrapped securely around Arthur's waist, face nuzzled against the man's back.

For a moment he was frozen, unsure what to do. Sure, they'd awakened in varying states of cuddling before; it was only to be expected when sharing a small bed. But this, this was new for Martin. And he wasn't exactly sure how Arthur would feel about It.

Until he felt a thumb run over his left forearm. He breathed out in surprise, sending his hot breath against Arthur's back. He tried to pull himself together.

“Arthur,” he whispered, “are you awake?”

“Mmf,” was the soft, muffled reply.

Martin took that to mean he was just waking, and not fully coherent. He gently pulled himself away from Arthur, heading into the bathroom to change and brush his teeth.

 

* * *

 

Later that morning, they headed to the hotel where the others were staying. They had a light brunch together, with Douglas making fun of him (oh, how he'd missed that), Carolyn insisting she was only there because it was her plane, after all (not that Martin believed her for one second), and Herc mediating it all (God, he'd even missed him and he hardly knew him).

A few times he felt Arthur's hand brush against his under the table. It gave him a feeling he hadn't felt since he was a teenager. That weightless, anxious feeling he was beginning to think he'd only imagined. But he tried not to think about it. Arthur was going to leave, sooner or later.

It really was wonderful to see them all again. He wasn't he captain anymore but he felt no less at home with this group of people. And knowing that they'd all dropped everything (they had to have other jobs, no matter how much Carolyn and Douglas denied it) just to come see him through a fit of loneliness only made him feel better.

And when he found out they'd be departing that night, he was both happy and sad. He didn't want them to go, didn't want that empty feeling to come back and take their place. But he was so happy that he'd gotten to see them. It wouldn't be a regular thing, of course. But there was no room to house any doubt that they cared about him.

“I don't want you to go,” Martin said when the others had left him to say goodbye to Arthur alone. “I'm so glad you came that I just don't ever want you to leave.”

Arthur nodded, understanding. “Then it's a good thing I'm staying.”

Martin's eyes went wide, making rapid jerks as they tried to detect any hint that this was a joke. “What?”

“I got a job. Here, at this hotel. I did say I could be a bellhop.”

“Arthur...”

“I arranged it when I arranged to come visit you. I couldn't... you sounded so sad on the phone, and I've missed you _so much_...”

“You did? Why didn't you say anything?”

Arthur grabbed his shoulders. “Because I didn't want you to feel bad about continuing to follow your dream, Martin.”

“What about Carolyn?”

“Mum supported my decision,” Arthur answered. “She could tell that I missed you, and with MJN going the way it is, it was time I looked for another job. And a bellhop is such a fun job. It's even got a fun name! And we'll be able to spend time together. I know you'll be away a lot, but we'll still see each other a lot. I won't miss you so much and you won't be lonely.”

Martin felt his eyes start to get wet. “Why? Why do all this just for me?”

“Because you're my Skipper.”

Martin's lips fell apart in a small gape. “Oh,” he said, realization slowly coming. “Arthur, you...” He reached up, gentle as he put his hands on either side of Arthur's face, drawing him downward, closer. He pressed their lips together, a light pressure that felt overwhelming even though they were barely touching.

Arthur's hands found their way to Martin's hips and he kissed him just a bit harder before ending it. “That's not the only reason I'm here,” he said in a voice so cautious and unsure, Martin wasn't certain it came from Arthur. “You're my friend and I care about you and I just want to be here for you. It doesn't have to be—”

“Don't,” Martin interrupted. “I don't believe you could possibly have anything other than the purest intentions, Arthur. You're so honest and good and wonderful... and that's what I need.”

“Alright.” Arthur smiled at him, expanding it when Martin returned the gesture.

“Have you found a place to live yet?”

“No.”

“Come stay with me. Please.”

“Sure, that'd be brilliant.”

Martin puffed out a heavy breath, like he'd been holding it since Arthur first showed up at his door. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Martin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, that was probably full of mistakes and awfulness (I'll proofread and edit after I get some sleep) but at least it had a happier ending than the last one.


End file.
